Totally Fishy (A Miller Sisters Mystery) (19 page)

The minute they clambered through my front door, plans for
the great trip
were being hammered out loudly.

I could think of no further arguments against the trip, as they had just about everything figured out. I looked helplessly at J.J., Evo, Sam, Ian, and Fred. "I uh, don't have bug spray."

Evo chuckled. "But you do have a passport?"

"Y-yes, of course."

"Then it is settled. I can see what kind of a flight we can get out. Our pilot is staying at a hotel near the airport, and if he is sober, we'll get out tonight."

"Tonight? I can't leave tonight!"

Evo took Sam's arm and led her a short distance away. They spoke in low tones, and I could see they were making personal plans.

"Fred," I said while the others were occupied. If we leave tonight Mom will kill us. You're hosting Thanksgiving this Thursday, remember?"

"Oh, crap, I forgot. I'm sure Evo and Sam won't mind waiting until after the holiday, and if they do, we'll just follow later on Friday. Sound good to you?"

"No, but it sounds better than the alternative."

Evo was on his cell phone. He hung up and came back to the group. "Tony will stay here. Alexandra said she will keep an eye on him. For medical reasons, I think he would best serve us investigating the live fish at Fred's house–if she does not mind."

Fred waved him off. "Heck no!
Mi casa
is
su casa
or however it goes. My house is your house. He can work down stairs, and Luis and Alfredo can assist. My only request is that we put the trip off a couple of days, after the Thanksgiving holiday."

Evo slapped his forehead. "I'm sorry; your American Thanksgiving holiday is at the end of this week, is it not? That might be to our favor. It will give me time to contact my pilot and make sure he is sober, as well as finalize the arrangements in Lima. It will give us all time to prepare; you need to pack for the jungle. I'll make you a list."

I swallowed hard. "Jungle?"

Fred elbowed me in the ribs then threw an arm around my neck and bumped my hip in rhythm. "Wee-de-de-de-de-de-de-de-do the lion sleeps toniiight. Yes, Buzz, we'll be two cheeseheads in the Jungle."

I jabbed her back and she sucked in a breath. "Uh, make that one cheesehead and one shithead."

Fred grimaced and I smiled, feeling much better.

Sam looked around at the group with misty eyes. "Thank you all. I cannot believe you would all put your lives on hold to come with me to check out some stupid little fish." She looked up at Evo and took his hand. "Your first vacation in forever and you're going back for me." She swiped at a tear.

"For the villagers, the fish, and for science, Samón." Evo kissed her temple and walked away, leaving her staring and stunned.

"
What
was that all about?" She stared wide-eyed at Fred and me.

Still irritable, I said, "I don't know. It's these men; I think they're all whacking out."

Fred stared after them. "Yep. Maybe it's a full moon or something."

A shiver crawled up my neck and I nodded toward the dead fish. "Whatever it is, I have a feeling whatever we find in Venezuela, will make our little discovery here seem mild in comparison."

14

The following morning, Tom and Mark followed the Suzuki carrying the Gallegos brothers into Illinois to the Great America exit. Mark was rubbernecking at the Gurnee Mills Shopping Center. "Holy Cow, Tom, did you see that? We
gotta
go back there! There must be a thousand stores in that place!"

Tom yanked the Cooper right and caught the ramp in time. "That's Bass Pro Shops and they also have a 120,000 gallon aquarium in there with live native fish. I read the advertisement. They have a shooting range and about a mile long shopping mall attached to it."

At Mark's eager expression, Tom became adamant. "No, we are
not
going there. We have a job to do." He thought about it and softened. "Maybe we'll go afterwards, okay? Maybe they have an ice cream store. I'll need ice cream by then."

Mark smiled and sat back.

Tom let a few cars get in front of them. As they turned right into the Great America parking lot, they could not help but be awed by the size of the place. They had to scramble to keep track of where Luis and Alfredo parked the Suzuki. They parked about ten rows away and waited.

The Gallegos brothers gamboled like puppies to the front gate and went in. Mark grabbed a brochure, sat back, and grumbled. "Don't see why we can't go have fun while we wait to murder 'em."

"Shut up and wait. Let's see how quickly the parking lot fills up, and then we'll see how much time is left. If we have to wait for dark, it'll be a long day."

Mark stopped flipping through the brochure and looked up. "Then we could go shopping until then. Look at this brochure. They've got a sports store the size of that Wal-Mart by our motel."

"You'd better find a suitcase outlet too, Mark. You're going to need it."

"Maybe I won't go home. We have papers that say we're citizens. Why not just stay here? Think about it. You could get a job, raise a family, and buy ice cream every day."

Tom smiled. "Hmm, ice cream every day?" He shook his head. "Knock it off, we can't do that, we're about to become wanted men. We can't stay here and do the chicken dance for the rest of our lives. What is your new family going to say when they see your face on the Six o'clock News?"

"I don't know…probably something like, 'Where did we go wrong?'"

"Oh, shut up, Mark. You are so lame."

"I'm lame? And you say
I
watch too much American TV?"

They sat in silence. Tom was amazed at how fast the parking lot around them filled up. By 1:00 in the afternoon, cars sat wall-to-wall for what seemed like miles. The Gallagos brothers had parked away from the crowds, but no one could tell, as their car was sardined in tight.

Mark had taken the top off the Cooper hours before, but now the afternoon sun beat down on their heads. Tom was asleep, so Mark quietly set the top back up, only locking one latch for fear of waking his cranky cousin. Their section of the parking lot was in direct sunlight, and the day marched on. Mark fiddled with the seatbelt, and then proceeded to make animal figures out of duct tape.

Hot, bored, and having no more fingernails to chew, Mark crept quietly from the car with the car bomb in a backpack. He inched along the rows, stopping whenever he heard a scrape or bump. Finding the Suzuki proved harder when creeping along bumpers, but Mark knew how to count and made it with only a couple of glitches.

He poked his head up and saw a police car cruising his direction. Rolling under a minivan, he held his breath. If Mark were Irish, he would have known that according to Murphy's Law, the owners of the van hiding him would choose that moment to return to their vehicle for lunch. But as Mark listened to the clatter and slamming of doors, he prayed some snot-nosed kid wouldn't drop a ball or chase a cat, or take a whiz on the tire and spot him under their vehicle.

Sure enough, the van rocked as a family arrived and the doors slid open. He heard dragging sounds as they pulled out a cooler filled with food. He rolled his eyes at the loud whiny noises, as spoiled American children made demands. Mark settled in to wait. "Snot-nosed American kids. They should see where I grew up then they'd have a reason to complain," he muttered.

The smell of peanut butter filled his nostrils and his stomach growled as the family ate lunch. Crap. That's all he needed. He had to get out of here and back to the Cooper. Mark inched toward the front bumper. He heard sounds of the lunch being packed up and let out a breath. Thanks be to God they were going back into the park.

At the sound of, "Okay kids, let's go," Mark smiled.

More sounds of closing lids and the van rocked. Oh, no, they were getting in, not out! Visions of the family driving out of the parking space exposing Mark smiling a toothy grin and holding a car bomb flashed through his mind. He was about to make a break for the car in front of him when he spotted a pair of extra small feet next to his shoulder.

The sound of a zipper made Mark blanch. He scuttled across the width of the van just as the sound of liquid hitting pavement reached his ears. A stream of tinkle made its way around the tire and Mark watched with morbid curiosity as it filled in the cracks in the asphalt and wound its way around pebbles and garbage. The trickle of urine became a stream and Mark eyed it warily. "Wow. Good thing he's a little guy. The kid will run out any second."

He waited as the stream continued. Mark began to panic as it crept closer to him. How the heck much water could one small kid hold? The trickle now looked like a raging torrent, crashing against rocks and breaking up into whitewater rapids.
What the hell, hasn't this kid taken a whiz since last year?

Mark inched away until he plastered himself against the opposite tire, and realized with irony that not only was he pissed off, he was about to be pissed on!

In his deepest voice, Mark growled, "Okay kid, pinch it off now or I'll break it off!"

The stream cut off immediately. The kid screamed like someone had stabbed him. All hell broke loose as the mommy jumped out of the driver's door. This gave Mark the opportunity to scoot across the aisle and dive under the car next to him. He crabbed forward and slid under the next car in line. Thankfully, the surrounding cars sat far enough off the ground that he could squeeze under. He kept it up in a zigzag pattern until he was far enough away not to be noticed. He got up and pretended to tie his shoes as he discretely brushed off his clothes. He grinned when he heard a little voice cry.

"
Mommy
! Mommy! The Pee-Pee Monster yelled at me. Come look. It's the Pee-Pee Monster! He said he'd bite it off!
"

"That'll teach the little bastard not to piss in public." Mark tucked in his shirt and strolled casually to the Cooper.

Tom was awake when he slid into the passenger's seat. He opened one eye, took a deep breath, and calmly asked, "Any chance that screaming over there has anything to do with you?"

"Naw, some kid screaming about a monster. Probably pissed his nappies in the fun house."

Tom sniffed the air. "Smells like that Pee-Pee Monster got you too."

Mark took a whiff and felt his pants. He inspected his jeans and saw a wet splotch down by his boots. He grabbed for the door handle. "Why, that rotten little pisser…"

Tom grabbed his arm. "Hold on,
amigo
." Between chuckles, Tom said, "Fine bad guy you are. You went from being the Terminator to being the Urinator. Hah-ha-ha! The Urinator who does a chicken dance. Oh how far the mighty have fallen. Ha-ha!"

Mark shoved. Tom flew out his door and lay howling on his back in the parking lot. His legs still inside the car, he clutched his middle as he guffawed at his own jokes. Mark slammed out of the car and took off across the parking lot.

Tom wiped the tears from his eyes and stood. He could see Mark heading in the direction of the Suzuki. He sobered, grabbed his backpack of tools, and headed after him, chuckling every time he thought of Mark getting peed on.

As he approached the car, Tom decided there was no reasoning with Mark. Tom had messed with his delicate ego, and Mark now had something to prove. He already had the car open from the passenger's side and wired the bomb to the driver's door.

"Why the door, Mark? I thought we agreed on the ignition."

"Because it's how I want it done. Quick, easy, done. You got a problem with that? Let's just get this out of the way. Then we can take care of the others and get out of this godforsaken country!"

Tom looked around and took a deep breath. Hands on hips, he observed, "I don't know, Mark. I kind-of like it here. I think you had the right of it. This might be somewhere we want to settle."

"Naw, I'd probably kill some little pisser and that would be that." Mark finished in the car and carefully set the small bomb between the seat and the door. He backed out toward Tom, who had his nose wrinkled against the smell that emanated from Mark's pant leg. Mark locked and carefully closed the car door. "Let's go shopping, I'm still pissed off." He wiped the door handle clean and walked briskly away.

Tom leaned down to pick up both back packs and burst out laughing again. "Better to be pissed off than pissed on, I say." He stumbled back toward the Cooper and threw the backpacks into the car. Still chuckling, he crawled into the driver's seat.

"Would you just shut up and drive, you moron? At the rate you're going, we'll never make it back."

Tom wiped his eyes and started the car. "Bladder late than never."

Mark scowled. "Knock it off with the piss jokes, Tom. Turn on the radio or something."

"Maybe I can find some 'Urethra' Franklin. Ha-ha-ha! I kill me."

Mark punched Tom in the arm. "
I'm
going to kill you in a minute."

"Okay, okay I'll stop! The mall is right over here, we can take a leak…I mean a peek inside and buy you some new pants. Sound good
amigo
?"

"Sounds good to me. There's a sign for blue jeans. Let's go."